


The Girl From The Tower

by itsnotillegal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey Palpatine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22610200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotillegal/pseuds/itsnotillegal
Summary: Prompt: "Quiet and obedient Rey lives a godly life with her grandfather, until the family hire a new gardener Ben, a mysterious and deeply attractive man. Sparks fly between the two."He was just like the men she despised most, sneering and laughing at her rage while snidely taking away her freedoms. She resolved right then and there to hate him.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey
Comments: 25
Kudos: 81
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange, Reylo Hidden Gems





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReyloBrit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyloBrit/gifts).



1.

_“Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done,_

_On earth, as it is in heaven.”_

A tree branch rustled outside Rey’s window, and the sound of sawing followed. Screwing her eyes shut tighter, she endeavoured to continue.

_“Give us this day our daily bread,_

_And forgive us our sins—_

Someone was cutting down the branch—the one she’d taken refuge on ever since childhood.

_“—as we forgive those who sin against us—_

A cracking sound rent the air, startling Rey from her kneeling position. “What on earth,” she growled, abandoning her prayers and marching over to the window, despite the faint protests of the maid who was folding stockings in the corner. So much for putting on an obedient front for her grandfather.

Outside the window, the leaves were swaying wildly in every direction, slapping against the glass. When she threw open the curtains and lifted the windowpane, the sight that greeted her on the other side only completed the fury that had been brewing inside her all week.

A strange man was sitting in her favourite tree, where she’d spent many an hour since the age of ten, wielding a saw and wearing the livery of her grandfather’s servants. He squinted up at her, dark eyes completely inscrutable in the morning sunlight.

“Who are you?” Rey demanded, pointing at him. He frowned then, a sneering scowl that dripped with disdain for her and for all upstart young ladies who presumed to order him about.

“Kylo Ren, at your service,” he said, though his tone promised the opposite. “Groundskeeper.”

Rey blinked. It all made sense now—Finn had barely been gone two days, and now this man was here. Her grandfather only kept two servants to maintain the gardens. What were the chances she’d be seeing this insufferable man every day from now on?

“How dare you?” she spat. “That tree is mine.”

The words sounded stupid the moment they left her mouth, and he knew it. “My orders are to cut it back,” he said mildly, infuriatingly calm in the face of her anger. “I won’t question that. Lord Palpatine’s personal orders.”

Rey’s blood ran cold. Of course her grandfather would try to punish her in one last way. She remembered climbing out from the windowsill to the branch as a child, tearful and frustrated at this new life she’d been thrust into, and feeling calmer with the solid branch under her hands reminding her that she could be strong too.

“Is there anything else, my lady?”

Ren’s voice cut through her thoughts, and Rey snapped back to reality, flashing furious eyes at him. “That will be all,” she gritted out. “I’ll thank you to have more respect.”

He raised an eyebrow, not moved in the slightest. “Of course, lady.”

Lord help her, this man was going to make her explode. In anger, of course, Rey told herself. He was certainly handsome, but his piss-poor attitude more than outweighed that. She slammed the window shut, ignoring the staring maid, and flounced downstairs.

It used to be easy to obey her grandfather, Rey reflected as she quickly descended the winding staircase that led down from her room. A comfortable life awaited her if she did, and a harsh punishment if she did not—the trade-off was simple for a world-wary orphan like her. But then Finn had come along, a true friend after so many years of solitude; the only person to make her laugh out loud. Though he was “only” a servant (Rey snorted inwardly at the memory of her grandfather’s disdainful tone), he had shown her that there was much more to life than blindly accepting her lot. That she could form her own opinions and thoughts, and that compassion was a strength.

But then her grandfather had found out about their friendship, and Finn had been sent away. It was all her fault, Rey reminded herself bitterly. This Kylo Ren seemed the total opposite of everything her friend had been—in fact, he was just like the men she despised most, sneering and laughing at her rage while snidely taking away her freedoms. She resolved right then and there to hate him.

*

Lord Palpatine’s granddaughter was a mystery, Kylo reflected as he took down a large pair of shears. This afternoon he would deal with the snaking vines that stubbornly crept across the northern side of the manor. A prim and pious model of obedience at first glance, Lady Rey had more than a little bite to her, as he had seen on their first meeting. Since that day about a week ago, she’d seemed to make a point of snipping at him on every possible occasion. She was certainly pretty, he thought with some reluctance. Beautiful, even. Captivating. She would not allow herself to be conquered.

Kylo shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. Everyone knew about the girl in the tower, the Lord Chancellor’s granddaughter whom he had taken in from the streets. Mysterious Lady Rey—some said she was beautiful, a gem hidden away in her tower room in dark Exegol House while the Chancellor went about on his corrupt business. Others said she was mad and would obey no one.

Perhaps, Kylo mused to himself, they should have combined the two concepts for a more accurate prediction.

In any case, he wasn’t here for a dalliance with his employer’s ward; he was only here for a short time after all, as an extra set of eyes and ears for the Chancellor. He was _definitely_ not going to go the way of his parents, grown weak in their emotions and feelings for each other. No, perhaps his foolish uncle had been right in at least that respect—attachments were best avoided. Lady Rey was annoying, he reminded himself. A rebellious, spoiled heiress who had never had to fend for herself. What did people expect of a sheltered child, anyway? Mysterious or no.

He shook his head once more, vigorously, gripping the blades of the shears a little tighter than necessary as he neared the dark walls of the manor. Rey was not in her usual place under the oak tree, and the disappointment that welled up unbidden made him grit his teeth. What made him want to see her—did he want to get into another argument? Of course he wasn’t entitled to her. The disappointment was followed by self-loathing, stabbing him with the thought that perhaps he was growing to be like his father after all.

Distracted by the turmoil in his mind, Kylo didn’t notice the hollow in the earth ahead of him, and didn’t feel his foot slipping until it was too late. Seconds later, he was on the ground with a searing pain shooting up his right arm: the shears had sliced through his sleeve and stabbed his arm, though what damage had been caused was still unclear to him through the shock and pain. Cursing, he picked himself up, pressing his torn sleeve against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He’d have to get back to his quarters, and there would be no question of finishing the day’s work. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he set out for the long walk across the grounds.

“Ren!”

He didn’t even register the sound of his name being called until she said it again, sharp and clear through the chilly air as he crossed in front of the looming manor. His head snapped up and he turned to see Rey running towards him, dark skirts picked up in one hand and her expression a mix of confusion and concern. Her eyes were not fixed on his face but on his bleeding arm.

“Ren!” she gasped once she’d caught up. “My god—what happened?”

“It’s nothing,” he grunted, though he could feel the blood dripping down his hand and knew she’d see through him. “An accident.”

“You must come in,” Rey insisted, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, though the effect was comical as he stood head and shoulders above her. “That old cottage hasn’t been stocked with anything useful, you’ll die of infection.”

“I hardly think I’ll—

“And that’s an order,” she pronounced with arms folded, though there was no real aggression in her tone—not like their previous meetings. Kylo snorted and gave in, following her back towards the manor.

“I always come in here for a bit of a snack,” she informed him as she pushed open the servants’ door, waiting for him to enter before she did. “It’s the nicest place in the whole house, if you ask me. Wait here.”

Kylo stood awkwardly in the scullery, aware of the blood dripping from his fingers and onto the floor. So Palpatine’s granddaughter wasn’t squeamish either. He was reminded of how his mother had commanded a fleet of staff in the massive, stately Organa household, without so much as faltering in her decisions. But thinking of his mother never brought positive feelings, so he was relieved in spite of himself when Rey returned, brandishing bandages, cloths and a bowl of hot water.

“Come and sit down.” She beckoned him to the servants’ dining area, nodding at the pair of kitchen maids who sat at the other end of the table, shelling peas. They stared openly until Kylo gave them a look, making them redden and turn back to their work. Rey wrinkled her nose at him, but chose not to comment.

“Let me see,” she ordered instead, gesturing for him to lay his arm on the table. He did so, reluctantly sitting down, and watched her peel away the bloodied sleeve, wrinkling her nose again as she assessed the damage. She looked quite pretty when she did that, and he absently wondered if he’d be able to make her do it again somehow.

“You ought to be more careful,” she muttered, soaking a cloth and wiping away the blood. It stung, and Kylo was already bristling at her words.

“I don’t need to be mothered,” he said archly, his temper rising further at the ill choice of words. His wound was hurting in earnest now, aggravated by the slow cleaning process. “Watch it!”

“I’m trying!” Rey snapped. “Your tools aren’t rusty, are they?”

“They are in perfect condition,” he growled. It was petty to feel insulted, but he ignored his conscience telling him to be more mature.

“Well, _I’m_ sorry,” she bit back, then looked ashamed of herself. “Never mind it.”

Kylo scowled but resisted the urge to provoke her further, watching as she checked the wound once more before unrolling a length of bandage.

“Luckily it isn’t very deep,” she told him. “If you leave it alone it should heal nicely. Just try to rest your arm a little for the next few days.”

“I have work to do. Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of sitting and reading all day long.”

Rey’s cheeks coloured in anger. “I—I was just trying to help! I don’t know why I bothered!”

Kylo regretted his words then, especially when he noticed the kitchen maids exchanging shocked glances with each other, and knew that this incident would be the gossip of the house before this time tomorrow.

He should just apologise and be done with it. But though he could form the words perfectly in his head, his tongue refused to obey. Kylo sat in silence until she had finished bandaging his arm, tying it off with nimble fingers. He had to admit that she had done a good job—the bandage was secure but not too tight, and not likely to come off while he finished the day’s work.

“There,” Rey said, stepping back. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No.” He stood up and flexed his arm a little, pretending it didn’t hurt. She was looking at him, still waiting expectantly.

“Thank you,” he muttered after a moment’s hesitation. She nodded primly, folding up the remaining bandages. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, focusing on rolling them up. “Aren’t you going to kiss it better?”

It was meant to sound mocking, but he didn’t like the way it had actually come out. She whipped her head up, staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“Do you want me to?” she hit back. Kylo felt a flash of _something_ at her challenging expression. They held the gaze for what felt like several minutes before she snorted and looked away. He muttered something and turned to leave, ushered out by the soft giggles of the kitchen maids.

Yes, this was definitely going to become the rumour of the week.

*

Rey muttered to herself as she tidied her desk of books and papers. Ren’s continuing arrogance had annoyed her more than she wanted to admit. How did he manage to look even more appealing when he was sneering at her? And what on earth had he meant, asking her to _kiss it better_?

No matter. He had certainly been making fun, as did all men when they found themselves in a vulnerable position. She mentally slapped herself for being so surprised at his comment.

Rey’s hand touched a piece of paper hidden inside her journal, and her troubled thoughts were interrupted. Finn’s note. He had gotten it to her through one of the less loyal servants, telling her that he was well and that she could meet him tonight, along with some new friends of his, if she came to the place that he named. She wondered how he was, along with the usual stab of guilt that she’d left him without a job or a home. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to worry her when he wrote the note. Well, she’d find out tonight. On paper was one thing, but Finn was a terrible liar.

She smiled briefly at the thought.

Their appointed time couldn’t come fast enough. She sat at the end of the long dining table, looking up every now and then at her grandfather as he muttered to himself. She could sense that he was displeased somehow, and it was likely to be with her.

Sure enough, exactly ten minutes into dinner, he fixed her with his piercing gaze. “I hear that you assisted the new groundskeeper today. An unfortunate accident.”

Whether by “accident” he meant Ren’s injury or their entire interaction, Rey didn’t care to guess. “Yes, grandfather,” she said evenly, realising that here was an opportunity to paint herself in a better light. “I was only too happy to help, but unfortunately he was most ungrateful.”

“Ren is a fine man,” the Chancellor stated, and Rey’s heart sank. “Take care you don’t annoy him further.”

“Yes, grandfather,” she sighed, glaring down at her dinner. Rey was never one to turn her nose up at food, but the excitement over her meeting with Finn had already spoiled her appetite and now her grandfather was taking Ren’s side over hers. But of course—she was sure he’d rather die than praise her for anything.

At a quarter to nine, Lord Palpatine retired to his study, and Rey knew he’d stay there until his accustomed bedtime of midnight. She’d taken that opportunity more than once as a little girl, sneaking around the house and exploring to her heart’s content, feeling that it was worth the caning if she got caught. Now, she felt like a child again as she put on her disguise—the plain black servant’s dress she’d pilfered from the storeroom downstairs. With her black hood held snugly about her face, she’d be all but invisible if she was careful enough.

Finn was there, waiting under a tree in the country lane he’d mentioned. The muted lights of the town beckoned ahead of him, but Rey ignored the surroundings for now, throwing her arms around him in delight, glad to see him safe and sound.

“Finn!” she squealed, then released him in embarrassment when she noticed the two figures standing behind him and prickled in embarrassment at her display.

“These are my friends,” Finn supplied, stepping back. “Miss Rey, meet Poe Dameron and Rose Tico—they’ve helped me find a new position.”

Poe Dameron smirked teasingly in the half-light. He was tall and dark-haired, dressed in traveling clothes. “Should I kiss your hand, Lady Rey?” he joked, and Rey knew he would be a charming, if somewhat irritating man.

“No thank you,” she said, returning his smile and turning to the other woman. Rose Tico was all confident smiles, a disposition that Rey found herself envying.

“It’s a pleasure,” Rose said, clasping her hand. “We’ve heard so much about you from Finn.”

Rey winced. “I…caused him to lose his position. I—

“Rey, please don’t worry.” Finn laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Lady Organa was pleased to offer me a job—Poe put in a good word.”

Rey’s eyes widened. “Finn, that’s wonderful!” The Countess was known for her generosity and wisdom. “But that’s so far away!”

“I know.” Finn’s face fell. “I’ll try to come and see you as much as possible.”

“He’ll be helping me,” Poe announced, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m always traveling, carrying her Ladyship’s correspondences, so you needn’t worry at all, _my lady_.” He made a sweeping bow.

“Don’t call me that,” Rey said, but she couldn’t help her relieved smile. Now that she knew Finn was going to be alright, a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Poe beckoned them along. “I know the tavern owner,” he was saying, “and he’d be happy to give us a room apart from all the rabble. And then we’ll see her Highness home—

“Don’t call me that.”

“And then, until we meet again!” Poe’s dramatic words made Rose giggle and make exasperated eye contact with Rey. Rey laughed softly as Poe struck up a tale of something stupid that his dog Beebee had done. She was glad Finn had fallen in with such friendly people. For now, she could be one of them—just a plain servant girl spending time with her friends. Just a nobody.

*

The sound of Rey’s boots hitting the ground was louder than she liked. She’d had no trouble scaling the back wall, jumping on top of it from a nearby tree branch and neatly avoiding the spikes. It was getting out that had been harder, and she felt a pang of regret at leaving Finn, though she was comforted knowing he wouldn’t be starving on the street. He’d worried about her, of course, but she’d brushed that off—she could worry about herself, just as she’d done her whole life.

She took a deep breath before standing, and looked right up into the eyes of Kylo Ren.

“My lady?” Ren said. Rey’s mouth dropped open. Her secret…her freedom…

“What are you doing?” the groundskeeper questioned. Inwardly, Rey cursed with all the filthiest turns of phrase she knew. How could she make him keep quiet? Money? Threats? Yes, threats—that sounded worth a try.

“If you ever tell anyone,” she snarled, jabbing a finger at him, “I’ll make sure you lose your job _and_ your reputation.”

As expected, he didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest, only stepping back a little with a sway of his pitch black cloak. “I find it intriguing how you would manage to do that, but I’ll believe you.”

“I mean it,” Rey said, “and it will happen. I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”

“You aren’t very much like your grandfather at all,” Ren said. Rey paused, her hand dropping to her side.

“What do you mean?” she demanded, searching his face.

He opened his mouth, then appeared to think better of it. “Nothing. May I escort you?”

Rey frowned. “So you can tell my grandfather all about it later?”

Ren laughed softly, making her bristle, but he was shaking his head. “No, my lady. It would be of no benefit to me if you fell foul of the Chancellor. I won’t say anything.”

Rey narrowed her eyes, not quite allowing herself to trust him yet. “Why should I believe you?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “No reason. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

He really was infuriating. Rey huffed impatiently, rolling her eyes. “Fine. But I don’t need to be _escorted_.” The idea of walking through the dark with her hand on his arm made her feel unfamiliar feelings that she did not want to examine.

“You don’t,” Ren agreed. “I’m kindly offering.” Then he _laughed_ at Rey’s look of furious impatience, holding out his good arm for her to take. “Would you believe me if I said that I’ve decided you aren’t so bad after all, and I’m humbly requesting your company?”

Rey snorted. “I certainly would not.” At the same time, however, her disobedient heart tugged at his words. Kylo Ren giving up their quarrel and wanting to spend time with her? Somehow, it wasn’t an unpleasant concept.

“You wound me, my lady,” Ren deadpanned. Rey wrinkled her nose, feeling the urge to chuckle despite herself. She reached out to take his arm, and the moment they touched made her swallow hard. He was warm, lithe and muscled against her hand, solid underneath the sleeve of his coat.

Hoping that he hadn’t noticed her disproportionate reaction, Rey nodded as curtly as possible and allowed him to escort her to the house. The grounds were totally dark and silent in the small hours of the night—evidently Ren in his capacity as groundskeeper had been the only one up and about.

She took a quick breath, not liking the silence between them. “How is your wound?”

“No better, no worse.”

“Be careful,” Rey said before mentally kicking herself for—once again—caring too much. But he only laughed softly, and not unkindly. Rey looked sideways at him, trying to read his features without him noticing. Was he being…nice? She laughed inwardly at the concept, but her heart fluttered rebelliously.

“Something on my face?”

Rey started, flushing horribly when she realised he’d seen her staring. “No,” she snapped. So much for his being nice. “Never mind.”

“To be sure.” He nodded slowly, that smug, thoughtful look stealing over his face again. Rey fumed, unsure whether she was angry at herself for being so transparent, or at him for seeing through her in the first place.

They were coming into the shadow of the manor now. It was the darkest time of night, when even the earliest risers were still fast asleep and dreaming. Rey was grateful for the total stillness that greeted her as she slipped in through the servants’ entrance, letting go of Ren’s arm.

“Thank you, she said, turning towards him, then remembered his smug looks. “Not that I needed it.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and his face was impossible to read. Rey didn’t feel satisfied, somehow.

“Well, good night,” she said after a pause, and left him there at the door.

 _Will he keep my secret?_ she asked herself, doubt still churning in her stomach as she carefully padded up the stairs. If there was one thing she could guess about Kylo Ren, it was that he would not be intimidated by anyone. Perhaps he could be trusted after all—if anyone could hide a secret from her grandfather, it was him. But what reason did he have to protect her? She had thought he disliked her, but perhaps there was more behind those dark eyes.

Nine years in this place had taught her which stairs were creaky and would betray her presence to any lurkers. She stepped over them, keeping a careful ear out for movement in the house, but her trip back to her bedroom was totally uneventful. It was as if Ren’s arm still encircled hers, warding off any unwanted eyes and ears and marking her as safe. Before she undressed for bed, she couldn’t help touching her wrist where it had pressed against him, wondering what it would be like to walk with him in broad daylight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! hope you enjoy this chapter :) some angst creeping in here...

2.

It was rare that Lord Palpatine took breakfast downstairs. In fact, Rey had to supress a snort at the concept of her grandfather eating toast and porridge with mere mortals. Well, one mere mortal—she alone sat at the other end of the table and concentrated on her meal, determined that he would not pick up any sign that she had been out last night, and that she had walked home arm in arm with the gardener. Remembering his stern instruction that she not annoy Ren, Rey scowled briefly before catching herself and schooling her features into a pleasant, neutral expression.

“I will be away on business,” her grandfather was saying, “until next Friday. I will leave this afternoon at three o’clock.”

It was Friday today. Upon realising that she would have a whole week to herself, Rey’s smile came easily to her face as she nodded. “Very well, grandfather.”

“See that you don’t disturb anything,” he reminded her. “Send word to Snoke if there is any trouble. Ren will be keeping an eye out.”

“Yes, grandfather,” Rey murmured. There would not be any trouble, and she would certainly not send word to Snoke. Perhaps Finn would even be in town. She wondered how he was faring, working alongside Lady Organa’s trusted courier. He had truly struck good fortune, she reflected—no thanks to her, who had been the reason for his change in circumstance in the first place. She could only be relieved that everything had worked out in the end.

However, her relatively high spirits dropped as soon as her grandfather’s last sentence registered. Ren would be here too; she’d have a whole week to run into him undisturbed. Sighing quietly, Rey turned back to her breakfast.

“Sir.”

Rey’s head snapped up. _Speak of the devil_ , she thought as Ren strode into the room, a letter in his hand. “This arrived for you, sir,” he was saying as Lord Palpatine took the letter.

Rey frowned. This was unusual—Snoke would usually take care of any correspondences. But her grandfather nodded, opening the envelope. Rey noticed that it was unaddressed.

She could feel Ren looking at her. After resisting his gaze for all of ten seconds, she finally looked up to meet his eyes. He _winked_ at her.

Rey’s face flamed, and she glared daggers back at him. He was smirking—no he was _laughing_ , his shoulders shaking silently and his lips pressed together to keep quiet. She raised her eyebrows furiously at him, darting her gaze meaningfully to her grandfather and back to him. Ren inclined his head slightly, drawing a surreptitious finger up to his lips. _I won’t say anything_ , his eyes seemed to promise. Rey pressed her lips together.

“Well done, Ren.” Palpatine’s voice broke the tense silence. He rose from the table, folding the letter and placing it carefully in his pocket. “I will prepare to leave this afternoon.”

Rey nodded automatically at him as he left the room. Once he was gone, her eyes snapped up to where Ren was still standing at the other end of the table.

“Don’t worry, your ladyship,” he drawled, the title sounding more teasing that respectful. “I said I wouldn’t tell, and I’m a man of my word.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” she groused, standing up from her seat. “And don’t call me that.” That reminded her of Poe Dameron—perhaps this afternoon Finn would send a message.

“What are you thinking?” Ren’s voice cut through her daydreams. She came back to herself, scowling at him.

“I was thinking I ought to check your bandages,” she said haughtily, but was surprised when he shrugged.

“As you wish, then.”

Rey chose to ignore the way her spirits lifted at the prospect of spending more time with him.

*

“How is it, doctor?” Kylo looked up at her from his seat at the servants’ table, allowing himself to smirk at her. “Will I live?”

“Come off it,” Rey scolded. “It seems you’ll survive another day.”

“My eternal gratitude.” He pressed his other hand to his chest, and she snorted. To her credit, he reflected, the wound was healing rather well considering it had only been one day. Rey was concentrating hard on reapplying the bandage, refusing to meet his gaze. She seemed to have something on her mind.

“Has…” she started hoarsely, then cleared her throat. “Has it been giving you any trouble?”

“Not in particular.” He leaned back, squinting at her. “You don’t seem fazed by any of this. Have you done it before?”

Rey shrugged. “You know my grandfather only took me in when I was ten years old.”

“Oh? And where were you before that?”

“The workhouse,” she told him frankly. “My parents never wanted this life for me. What they did want I’ll never know, but they left me there.”

He’d never thought to wonder where here parents were until now. “Are they—

“Dead? Yes.” Rey seemed more resigned that anything else. “I don’t know what they thought would happen, but I was found eventually. It was a shock for me, as you might imagine.”

Kylo couldn’t imagine her at ten, a bedraggled workhouse orphan, being brought to the gates of Exegol House and transformed into the quiet, secretive heiress that he knew today. Before today, he might even have said that she was obedient, but he could see the streaks of rebellion in her. It made sense, considering how her parents had defied Palpatine. It also explained her readiness to climb walls.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Rey said dryly. Was that disappointment in her voice? Perhaps she’d wanted him to think highly of her?

“Not at all,” he returned, absently attempting to annoy her, but the satisfaction didn’t come when he saw that he’d succeeded. She huffed, running her hand cursorily over the fresh bandage.

“That should do,” she said in a clipped tone, straightening up. “I’m sure you can look after yourself from now on.”

She turned to go with a wounded rustle of skirts, but Kylo was already on his feet.

“Wait,” he said. “I—I apologise. I didn’t mean any disrespect towards your parents or your…upbringing.”

Rey raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“In fact,” he continued, racking his brain for the right words, “I find it rather…admirable. A lesser person would not have done as well as you have.”

“Thank you,” Rey said. “I think.”

“I know what it’s like to be without one’s parents,” Kylo went on, sitting down resignedly. He’d probably made a mess of everything, but in that moment he was determined that she would not think badly of him. “I left my family at sixteen.”

Her eyes widened, and she came to sit beside him unbidden. “Oh? Why?”

“Many reasons.” Suddenly he didn’t feel like talking about it, but she was there, waiting patiently for him to finish. “My parents expected me to be many things that I could not be. There was no room for failure.” Kylo leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “All in all, I believe one is better off without family.”

Rey frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry—it’s a fact.”

“No, I don’t mean that.” Her hand came to rest on his bandaged arm. “I mean, I’m sorry for how your family treated you.”

Kylo tried to ignore the strange feeling that welled up in his chest at her words. “I should have expected it.”

“How?” she chided, smiling softly at him. “You were a child. We can’t choose the circumstances of our birth, and I should know.”

“I suppose you would.” He looked down at her with something like fondness curling in his chest, and she grinned back. How had they come from squabbling to this?

Rey broke the silence then. “Have you ever seen the portrait of my parents?”

“No, I don’t believe so.” Kylo hadn’t known that one existed—Palpatine had disowned his son and daughter-in-law, and he would have assumed that any portraits had been destroyed.

“I’ll show you, if you want.” Rey rose from her seat. “It’s in the library. My grandfather won’t display it, of course, but I found it when I was younger. You can tell me if there’s a resemblance or not.”

“I thought the library was off limits,” Kylo said. He’d heard of the Chancellor's collection of literature, from ancient mythology to modern day texts on the occult--a stark contrast to his outwardly pious life. But Rey only laughed.

“I found a spare key when I was fifteen. We’ll have to wait until my grandfather has left this afternoon, but I can show you everything. As long as you promise not to tell—but I rather think you’ve proved yourself in that respect.”

“Very well.” Kylo found himself smiling, against his better judgement. “As it is I have work to do, but I’m sure there’ll be a spare moment to meet your parents.”

Rey laughed aloud. “Half past three?”

“Done.”

*

Rey’s feet automatically avoided the noisy floorboards as she led Ren up the stairs, key clasped safely in her right hand. “You know,” she said, “the library is my favourite place. After the kitchen, of course.”

Ren snorted. “You aren’t even allowed to be there.”

“Maybe that’s why I like it so much,” she said, turning back to look at him with a glint in her eye. “Do you know what?”

“What?” he said absently, watching her turn the key in the lock.

“I was found by Snoke and his men after I’d been arrested for stealing a book.” She opened the door and they were immediately enveloped by the scent of ancient pages. “I’d stolen plenty of food before, so I’d gotten complacent. It was lucky that the Chancellor's men had pinpointed me right on that day, or I might have been hanged.”

“You stole a book?” Ren’s fingers trailed over an aging spine that read _The Occult Sciences_.

“I did. I could only read my own name, but somehow I thought that if I just looked hard enough at the words, I would understand them.” Rey ignored the shelves for now, going straight for the desk in the corner. “Here they are—in this drawer.” She pulled it open gently, inviting him to look as she drew out a rolled up canvas.

Her parents’ familiar faces greeted her as she unrolled it and laid it out on the desk. Her mother’s blonde hair was dulled by dust and cracked paint, and the red of her father’s waistcoat had faded, but they were vibrant in her eyes nonetheless. Their faces were carefully neutral, but Rey didn’t think she was imagining the defiant streak in their eyes.

“You have your mother’s nose,” Ren informed her. Rey snorted.

“You may be right,” she murmured, glancing at her reflection in the window. The huge pine tree on the outside shielded them from prying eyes and kept the room cool and dark.

“Do you think…” Ren trailed off, meeting the eyes of her reflection. “Do you think they were good people?”

Rey _hmm’ed_. “My parents? No.”

Ren seemed taken by surprise. “No?”

“They abandoned me,” she said sternly, pressing her lips together. “Perhaps their intentions were noble, but no good person would leave a child in a place like that.”

“Noble and good are not always the same thing, are they?”

Rey snorted. “You’re right about that. In fact, sometimes I think they’re mutually exclusive.” Tearing herself away from the window, she began to absentmindedly peruse the shelves. “You’re lucky, Ren. You aren’t noble, so you’ve got a chance of one day being good.”

Was it her imagination, or did Kylo Ren grow colder in that moment? “I doubt that,” he muttered. When she turned to look at him, he was facing deliberately away from her.

“At least, I don’t believe you’re anything like my parents,” Rey amended, unsure what had offended him. “Or my grandfather.”

He snorted at that, and she relaxed, glad to have raised his spirits somewhat. “When we first met, I’m sure you thought I was the devil incarnate,” he reminded her, raising his eyebrows amusedly.

Rey flushed, defensive. “Well, I didn’t even know you. And you didn’t like me very much either, if I remember correctly, so there!”

Ren threw his head back and laughed at her triumphant face. His genuine laugh was deep and ringing, and so infectious that Rey had to remind him to be quiet in the midst of her own laughter.

He smiled at her then—his real smile—and Rey’s heart skipped a beat. He was _smiling at her_ , his eyes alight with mirth and content. _He has dimples_ , Rey thought weakly. She wanted to touch his face and run her hands through his thick, dark hair.

“Well,” she said softly after a few moments. “Now you’ve met my parents.”

“I have,” Ren said. His smile faded, and his serious, closed-off demeanour seemed to return.

Rey turned to look at the books again. “Sometimes I wonder if their ghosts are here. Don’t you think this is the kind of house to hold all manner of spirits?”

Ren snorted. "I doubt it. Are you important enough to warrant a haunting by the spirits of old?”

Rey laughed softly. “You’re probably right. I’ve been reading too many of these old books. And if ghosts were real, then that would mean I’d have to put up with my grandfather for much longer than expected.”

“Very true.” Ren came to stand beside her, gazing up at the array of books before them. “I can think of some ghosts I’d have to deal with as well.”

She looked up at him questioningly, but didn’t press further when he seemed disinclined to explain. Instead, she ran her hands along the shelf until they found a familiar book.

“This was my favourite when I was young,” she told him. “It explains all about how to conduct a séance. I used to light candles…” Her eyes flickered to the tapers burning in their sconces on the wall. “…And I thought I could contact my parents, or perhaps my ancestors from the portraits in the hallway. I think all children are fascinated with dark things in some way.”

“I suppose so.” Ren sounded reflective and almost sad.

“Of course, nothing happened,” Rey assured him. “Although, maybe it didn’t work because I was on my own. The books all say other people have to be present.”

Ren shifted. “Well, I think it’s a load of horse shit.” Her eyes widened at his sudden and uncharacteristic use of language, but he was undeterred. “You are smarter than this, Rey.”

His abrupt dismissal stung a little, but warmth filled her at his use of her given name. However, he was already ploughing on. “It’s getting late and there’s work to do. The maids will ask questions if they notice we’ve been here.”

Rey frowned, confused at his sudden change in demeanour, but she knew he was right. “I suppose so. But…”

He met her gaze. “What?”

She reached out to touch his arm. “Ren, I don’t think you’re a bad person—in fact, I think you’re a very good man. And I’m sorry you didn’t have the support one might expect from a family.” His eyes met hers, and she had never felt more connected with anyone in that moment.

“Thank you,” he murmured, so low she could have missed it. “I…appreciate it. And…”

She raised her eyebrows. “And what, Kylo?” His first name tasted strange and foreign, yet pleasant in its informality.

“Call me Ben.”

“What?”

“That’s the name I was given. Not the one I go by. I prefer to forget life with my parents. But you can—

Rey leaned up on her tiptoes, placing both hands on his strong shoulders, and kissed him, muffling his noise of surprise. His lips were warm and soft just as she’d expected, and the slide of his hands on her waist as he returned the kiss had butterflies rioting in her stomach. She sighed against his lips before breaking the kiss and reaching up to cup his face in her hands.

“I’d love to call you Ben,” she said, smiling at him.

Ren—Kylo— _Ben_ snorted quietly, looking away…and she could have sworn he was blushing. “Well, not when others can hear, of course—

“Of course not.” Rey patted his shoulder. “Ridiculous man.”

“Well, I happen to think that out of the two of us, you’re the more ridiculous one—

A massive gust of wind rattled the windows, and Ben’s face was suddenly cast into shadow when the candles guttered out one by one. Rey glanced around wildly, trying to look for where the wind had gotten in, but she didn’t remember opening a window.

“It’s just a draft,” Ben muttered. “Looking to storm tonight. I’d better get some work done before the rain comes.”

“Of course.” Rey smiled at him. “Don’t let anyone see you come out of here.”

“Don’t worry,” he told her, lifting her hand to his lips. She chuckled when he kissed it softly.

*

Not even the rain would keep Rey from seeing her friends. It was coming down fairly hard, but there was no sign of lightning or thunder—evidently the storm was saving itself for later. She clutched her umbrella and pulled the raincoat tighter around herself, glad for the dark garment that would make her even less conspicuous.

Later, sitting in the warm tavern between Finn and Rose, she suddenly remembered the events of that afternoon, and her face grew hot.

“So the Chancellor will be away for a week?” Finn was saying. When Rey was too lost in her own thoughts to answer, he prodded her. “Rey? Everything alright?”

Rey shook her head, pulling herself out of that train of thought. “What? Yes, everything’s fine. Yes, he’ll return on Friday evening.”

“That’s lucky,” Poe said with his mouth full. Rey was sure he could give her a run for her money in an eating competition. “Our Miss Rey could certainly defend the manor all on her own.”

“Oh, I won’t have to,” Rey snorted. “Ren would do it before I had the chance.”

To her surprise, she found that all three of them were looking at her strangely. “Ren?” Finn said, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Oh.” Rey felt a stab of…was it guilt? “The new groundsman. Kylo Ren. Do you know him?” The secret of his true name was one she wouldn’t ever consider revealing.

“Tall man, dark hair, big nose? Looks like he’d kill you as soon as look at you?” Poe asked. When Rey nodded dumbly, he swore and spat on the ground, ignoring Rose’s indignant “ _Language_!”

“Rey, you don’t understand.” Finn put his hand on her arm, the same one that had been clasped in Ben’s only a few nights before. “We know of him, and he’s bad news.”

“He’s really the only son of Lady Organa,” Poe put in, leaning across the table towards Rey. “He was long gone before I was ever in her service, but we’ve all heard the story of how he betrayed her to her political enemies—including your grandfather. It’s even said that he was behind the armed robbery that killed his own father.”

Rey's stomach dropped. Ben himself had told her that he'd been at odds with his parents. “Who says that?”

“We can’t prove it,” Rose said gently, “but we know he can’t be trusted. He’s under your grandfather’s employment, isn’t he? Why would he go undercover like that? Lord Palpatine must be using him for something.”

Rey’s stomach churned. Could it be that her punishment was not over? Ben had arrived just a day after Finn’s disgraced departure, his first task to take away one of her only sources of happiness. Hed delivered an unmarked letter to her grandfather. Not to mention how he’d seen her sneaking back in that night. He’d sworn not to tell, and she’d trusted him, let him see the personal side she never revealed to anyone. He knew that she had a key to the forbidden library. She’d _kissed_ him.

“I…” Her voice rasped, and she cleared her throat, trying to keep her composure. “I thought he was a good man.”

Rose put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Miss Rey. It’s hard to have your trust broken.”

The sympathy of her friends only made things worse. Rey swallowed thickly. “I should be getting home.”

“Of course.” Finn stood up. “Shall we walk you to the wall?”

Rey shrugged. He squeezed her arm in an attempt to be comforting. “Just be careful,” he murmured as they left the tavern. “Your grandfather would stop at nothing to control you.”

“I thought Ren could be trusted,” Rey said again, numbly. Finn made a sympathetic noise and rubbed her shoulder, and Rose took her other arm protectively.

“We’ll get you home,” Poe said. “And remember, if you ever need help, you can always come to us. Lady Organa would be happy to provide assistance.”

"You know, she still believes Ren can change," Finn told her. "She's a bigger person than any of us for it. She holds out hope that one day her son will come home. And she loves to help--

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” Rey said stonily. The lashing rain beat at her raincoat and umbrella as they made their way down the road, but she stood tall, refusing to bend. She had been fooled once, but she would be damned if she’d let herself be taken in again. From now on, only Rey was on Rey’s side.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there! shit goes down in this chapter, enjoy :^)

3.

Kylo was in high spirits the next morning as he hauled firewood for the groundskeeper’s cottage. His wound had barely given him trouble so far, and his time with Rey the day before was fresh in his mind: her laughter, the light in her eyes when she showed him her secret refuge. Her kiss.

Perhaps she thought of it as just a dalliance. The thought prickled at him a little, but he told himself that everything would change soon. He would fulfill his duty to Palpatine, and with his recovered status, he’d be able to save Rey from this place. She could have all the books she wanted, and freedom to make friends and see the sights of the land. Surely, the Chancellor would approve a marriage between his granddaughter and his most loyal ally.

The thought of marriage made his chest tighten, but he pushed away the feeling. He deserved this, and he knew that great things would come of a partnership between himself and Rey. She was intelligent, not to mention beautiful, and most importantly she had a mind of her own, apart from her scheming grandfather and his associates.

The storm from the night before had left the gardens gleaming and fresh. He’d expected Rey to be outdoors, perhaps reading under the oak tree, but she was nowhere to be found. No matter—as he had continually reminded himself, he wasn’t entitled to see her every day.

However, as the day wore on he began to be more apprehensive. They had shared a personal moment yesterday. She’d kissed him, for heaven’s sake. Perhaps she regretted it. That thought wounded his pride more than he cared to admit.

He had no reason to call on her, and therefore it was evening two days later before he actually laid eyes on her, standing by herself under the oak tree. A stark silhouette in her customary black gown. She seemed deep in thought, her silence broken only when she lifted a handkerchief and blew her nose.

“Rey,” he said softly. She turned to face him, and he saw that her eyes and nose were red and watery.

“Hello,” she said softly, without any spirit. “Sorry, I’m ill today. Perhaps there was more of a draft than we realised.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. She seemed so dejected, and his urge to take her away from all this was growing stronger. “Rey, there’s something I must tell you.”

“Oh?” Was it his imagination, or did he detect a hint of coldness in her tone?

“Rey, I was—I’ve been thinking...” _Excellent start, Ren._ “I want to get you out of here. I can help you free yourself of the Chancellor, and myself too. Will—will you come with me?”

Rey frowned. “Are you—are you asking me to marry you?”

_Here it is_. “Yes. I am. If you’ll accept.” He considered going on one knee, but he had a suspicion she’d hate it, and who knew who might be watching?

Rey’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t know why you’re asking me this,” she said. “You know my grandfather wouldn’t allow such a thing.”

So she _had_ just seen it as a dalliance. Frustration began to swell in his chest, but Kylo pushed it down and ploughed onwards. “You’ll understand in time,” he said. “I can’t tell you everything right now, but things aren’t how they seem. I can—

“Just stop it.”

Kylo raised his eyebrows at her sudden retort. “What?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know who you are, _Ren._ Whatever scheme you’re trying to pull off, you can go to my grandfather when he returns and tell him it’s failed. I won’t play along.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?” This was all going wrong. What did Rey know—or think she knew?

“I said, I know who you are. I know you’re Lady Organa’s heir. And I know what you did to her.”

“How do you know Lady—

“I know what I know, Ren,” she growled. “I was a fool to trust my grandfather’s lackey. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Rey, whoever told you all of that is lying. I may have held loyalty towards Lord Palpatine, but not anymore. I don’t want to be any man’s lackey. And I know that with you by my side, I can break free of all this. I—

“Save it,” she snarled. “I’m sick of men trying to control me. You see yourself as better than my grandfather, but you’re the same as him.”

Before Kylo could come up with the perfect retort, she whirled around and marched back up the path. He stared after her, fury burning in his chest. How dare she lead him on, as she had the day before, and then push him away as if he were just a fling to her. He had thought that Rey wasn’t like that, but perhaps there was more going on in her head than he ever guessed.

Well, he’d never let anyone take advantage of him like that again.

*

Rey spent the rest of the week in a miserable haze.

No more messages came from Finn, and to top it off she’d caught a cold from her walk in the rain, so she might not have been able to keep the appointment even if there had been one. Her nose and eyes streamed even when she wasn’t crying.

And then there was Ben—no, _Kylo’s_ —half-baked proposal to her. When he’d approached her under the tree, her heart had softened and she had started to think that maybe they could still have some sort of relationship. Surely the man she’d kissed in the library wouldn’t betray her to her grandfather.

But then he’d blurted out something about taking her away, and she’d come crashing back to reality. He only wanted to control her, to own her. Who knew, maybe this too was one of her grandfather's plans and she’d walked right into it. For the thousandth time that week, Rey cursed herself for her foolishness.

He’d seemed so sure of himself, confident that the revelation of his true station in life would bring her round completely. Rey wrinkled her nose. She’d rather die alone than agree to marry some entitled man who thought of her as just another possession. In this matter, she would never bend to her grandfather or anyone.

*

Lord Palpatine returned home that Friday in relatively high spirits. Rey was too tired to wonder what exactly had happened to please him, but later the next day, her suspicions were confirmed when he called her to his study.

“I will be hosting a few business partners for dinner in three days’ time,” he was telling her. “One of them is a gentleman I would very much like you to meet—General Armitage Hux, a war hero and a valued supporter. I’m sure the two of you will get along very well.”

Rey knew what he meant. She’d resigned herself to this moment coming, but after everything that had happened, the thought sickened her instead of boring her like before. She’d heard of General Hux and his war exploits, and she knew from experience that these so-called brave soldiers were usually cruel and uncaring. But Palpatine was waiting for an answer.

“Yes, grandfather,” she acquiesced, nodding her head respectfully. He smiled, satisfied.

“I want you to oversee the preparations,” he told her. “It is time that you learned to do so, as the lady of the house.”

“Yes, grandfather.” _And as the future wife of a general_ , Rey thought bitterly, but she wisely made no further comment. After everything that had happened, she couldn’t afford to let her grandfather think that anything was amiss. She would have to become the quiet and obedient young lady once again. She’d been doing it as a matter of survival all her life—this shouldn’t be any harder.

The preparations gave her something to do, at least. Rey had always liked solving puzzles, and this was no different in the end. She worked out table settings, consulted kitchen staff about food and drink, and made sure everything was within budget. And while she was constantly forced to think about her dreaded future meeting with General Hux, at least all the preparations left her little time to think about everything that had transpired between her and Ren.

She barely saw him these days. As far as she knew, he was going about his daily work without a care in the world. _He_ would never have to worry about forced marriages or pleasing a guardian who only cared to keep her under lock and key.

But there really was no time to think about him. Before she knew it, it was the day of the dinner party. She’d checked over and approved everything, and even been fitted for a dress brighter and more extravagant than she’d ever owned in her life. She’d only gotten a fraction of pleasure at seeing herself in the mirror, dressed up in red and white, because she knew very well what the purpose was. Rey had prided herself in always having a plan for even the bleakest situations, but on this occasion she was coming up blank every time. Either she would cooperate and marry the man, or she would refuse and risk her grandfather’s wrath. He would certainly disown her, and he’d see no issue with throwing her out on the street to starve.

Well, what other prospects did she have? It wasn’t like there was some other man (she refused to think about Ren) who was vying for her hand, waiting to whisk her away. _Only I am on my side_ , she reminded herself as she watched the servants set tables in the disused dining hall. She remembered running around it as a child, drawing patterns in the dust and sneezing until her governess found her and whipped her for getting so dirty. Today the hall was a far cry from back then, with every inch of floor polished and the silverware shining brightly. There was no dust to be seen. They would all pretend this house wasn’t a place of isolation and darkness.

The day darkened into evening and guests began to arrive. Rey only knew of them from her grandfather’s infrequent conversation, if at all, but she dutifully greeted each one. General Hux, she soon discovered, was a tallish redhead with a habitual sneer and a fondness for strong and expensive drink. At least she wasn’t required to talk too much, as he didn’t seem to have faith in her or any other woman to say something intelligent.

How would she put up with him as a husband? Rey felt sick at the thought, and the rich food and alcohol in her stomach coupled with the tightness of her dress did little to help. She longed to get up and retreat to the balcony for some fresh air, but that would be out of the question. At the other end of the table, her grandfather conversed with some acquaintance of his, but she knew his eye was on her and didn’t dare do anything other than smile and nod politely at Hux, putting in little remarks now and then. She felt as though she were outside of her body, watching herself play the perfect hostess from some vantage point up on the ceiling.

She decided she hated Hux. He was callous and snobbish, and any good looks he might have had were completely overshadowed by his personality. And the worst of it was that, by marrying him, she would still be under Palpatine's thumb. The special brand of cowardice common to men like Hux would allow her grandfather to keep her in his control at all times.

By the time dinner was over, Rey felt as though she might faint. The room was unusually hot, and her corset was feeling tighter every second. And there was still dancing to come. She took as deep a breath as the dress would allow and discreetly fanned herself as they rose from the table.

“It’s perfectly alright, Lady Palpatine,” Hux was saying. It took Rey a moment to realise he was addressing her.

“Pardon, sir?”

“I said, it’s perfectly alright,” he repeated. “You needn’t pretend to get along. I’m aware that this whole…situation is none of your doing. You are not the only one who must run around in circles to please his Lordship.”

Rey was taken aback. “Th-thank you?”

“And it isn’t as if I’m thrilled about it, either,” Hux went on. “Pardon me for saying so, but the circumstances of your upbringing are widely known, at least among his Lordship’s associates. We must make the best of a bad situation, I suppose.”

Rey bristled. Just because she didn’t enjoy her circumstances, didn’t mean this pompous bastard got to look down at her. “What do you mean? I was raised with the best my grandfather had to offer.”

“I don’t mean that,” Hux began, but Rey had had enough. For a moment there she thought he was going to be at least tolerable, but of course he’d shown his true colours instead. She knew what he really meant.

“Please excuse me,” she gritted out, gathering up her skirts and storming out of the room. Perhaps he said something to try and stop her, but she didn’t register it in her fog of rage. Dimly she was aware that Palpatine would have her head for this, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The air of the garden outside was refreshingly cool when Rey forced her way through a side door, collapsing gratefully onto a bench. She took huge gulps of fresh air, then regretted it when her ribs pushed painfully against her corset.

“Need help?”

Rey’s head snapped up. Ren was there, standing half in the shadow of the hedge as if he belonged there, some sort of forest god. Her eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said. Not satisfied, Rey stood up, gathering her skirts in preparation to leave again. But the look in his eyes stopped her.

“You…” he began, thought better of it, then thought better again. “You look…beautiful.”

“Oh, do I?” Rey snarled, in no mood at all for games. “It’s so my grandfather can marry me off.”

“I know,” Ren said wearily, leaning against the wall. She tore her eyes away from his striking profile, her anger growing.

“You _knew_? Is there a single person in this god-forsaken house who hasn’t conspired about me?”

“I didn’t.”

Rey glared up at him. “Pardon?”

“I didn’t conspire about it.” Ren seemed about to confide in her, but suddenly his face twisted. “What does it matter what I tell you, anyway? You won’t listen, just like before.”

“And why should I have listened to that?” She took a step towards him, staring him down. “You lied to me. You made yourself seem like a poor neglected child, just wanting acceptance and love from your family, but you forgot to mention how you betrayed them.”

“Rey!” he almost shouted, then drew back at her startled gasp. “You don’t understand. I was desperate back then, and I was foolish. Not a single member of my family believed me, so I had nowhere else to turn but their enemies.”

“So you hurt them,” Rey muttered.

“So I hurt them. They had done nothing but hurt _me_ anyway. Do you know, my mother and father used to fight bitterly every time he came home? Because he never liked to spend a minute more than necessary with his family.”

“At least you _had_ a mother and father!”

“They used to fight over me,” he growled, bitterly striking the wall with his palm. “When it became apparent that I was a failure and a disgrace to the family name, they would blame each other. As if I didn’t have a brain and couldn’t understand them plainly. I was the reason for their fighting, so what was a child to do but act out even more?”

Hurt dripped from Ren’s voice with every word, and the retort on Rey’s tongue died when she saw his face, rigid with feelings that he had repressed until now. She quieted, sitting down on the bench once more.

“They sent me away to my uncle’s school as soon as they could,” he muttered. “After that, I knew there was nothing I could do to redeem myself in their eyes.”

“That’s not true,” Rey heard herself say, remembering something Finn had said. Ren looked up at her, questions in his eyes. “Your mother is still ready to forgive you. She wants you to go home.”

Ren shook his head. “And who told you that? The same people who said I was evil and conspiring with your grandfather?”

“Ren, you know that wasn’t unreasonable of them to think.”

“It doesn’t matter, in any case,” he growled savagely, hitting the wall again. “Like I said, you won’t listen and it isn’t worth it.”

“If it isn’t worth it,” Rey said, “then why did you ask me to marry you?”

He froze, evidently not expecting her to bring it up. 

“I…” he began. “I wasn’t trying to control you. I saw how life is for you in this place, and I thought perhaps we aren’t so different. I wanted us to find freedom together. I…”

“So you took pity on me.”

“No! It isn’t like that.” Ren turned to leave, his black coat brushing the wall behind him. “I told you, you wouldn’t listen.

“My time here is almost over, by the way,” he said, pausing. “My obligation to the Chancellor is fulfilled and I’ll be gone within the week. Just so you know, you won’t be disturbed any longer.”

“How kind of you to mention,” she retorted. “I’m sure that under my grandfather’s employ you’ll find more ways to _disturb_ me, don’t doubt it.”

“How many times must I explain,” Ren growled, and Rey rose up from her seat automatically, trying to meet his gaze. She was too short, of course, and the effect wasn’t as intimidating as she’d hoped. Quite the opposite, in fact: Ren’s gaze pinned her with something like hunger. She shuddered.

“…don’t mean to continue working for Palpatine,” Ren was saying. “I told you, I want to be free of all this. That’s why I wanted you to come with me.”

Rey blinked, suddenly feeling heartsick. “You…wanted me?”

“You have _no idea_.”

Before Rey could process his words, Ren’s hands were on her waist and his mouth was on hers. She barely registered the noise of surprise that escaped her, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with all her might. His hands gripped her waist as if he were afraid she’d fade away before his eyes.

This was nothing like their kiss back in the library. This was fierce, hungry, desperate and _angry_ somehow. When Ren broke the kiss and pressed his lips to Rey’s neck, she felt as if she might faint, but instead she growled and pulled his hair, grabbing the back of his collar with her other hand. Not for the first time, she cursed her ridiculous party dress that wouldn’t let her feel his deft hands stroking up and down her waist, and she made up for it by wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hooking her leg around his.

The result was better than she could have hoped. Ren—no, Kylo—no, _Ben_ —growled in her ear and captured her lips again. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he snarled in between kisses, his hot breath making her shudder in his arms.

“Why don’t you show me then,” Rey hissed before he covered her mouth with his once again. One hand grabbed her thigh through the layers of skirt and petticoat, blindly seeking the hem of the dress to slip underneath. The touch of his hand on her stocking-covered thigh brought her back to reality.

“We can’t…” she gasped, pressing a hand to Ben’s face to stop him. “We can’t do this.”

His face twisted, and he let go of her abruptly, leaving her to shakily straighten out her skirts. “Of course,” he said bitterly.

Rey sat down stiffly on the bench, watching him leave. Some part of her wanted to beg him to stay, like a little child, but she wasn’t that girl anymore. She could hear the sounds of the party still going on indoors, and she knew that at some point she’d have to return and make her excuses. She knew that her grandfather would punish her for this. But instead of the familiar sense of resignation, she instead felt a spirit of rebellion rearing its head inside her.

Where would she go? Rey didn’t know, but she knew she would go somewhere. Perhaps, since Lady Organa was willing to forgive a wayward son, she would also be willing to take in the disgraced granddaughter of her enemy. Whatever happened, Rey knew she would survive. Survival had been her best skill ever since childhood.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the final chapter! I'd like to thank the good people from the RFFA discord for doing word wars with me, without which there would be no fic :')  
> And thanks to ReyloBrit for the prompt of course <3 it's been so fun!

4.

Rey had looked exquisite in her party dress.

Kylo cursed himself, rubbing his eyes and dragging sleep-heavy fingers through his hair. More than twenty-four hours had passed since that night, and all he could think about was her figure, wrapped prettily in silk and ruffles. Her lips on his, her body pressed against his, her possessive little hands on his face and neck. She would most definitely be the death of him.

He rose from his bed, glancing at the battered clock on the wall that read 4:30. As good a time as any to get up and forget about the previous day.

 _I love you_. The words had been trapped in his mouth that night, but his stubborn brain had refused to let him say them. _I don’t pity you. I love you. I want you to stay with me._ She wouldn’t believe him, but he’d prove himself to her yet. He’d break away from servitude to Palpatine.

What would he do with his newfound freedom?

The stairs creaked as he made his way up to the Chancellor’s study, and against his will he remembered how Rey had skipped up these stairs, easily dodging the noisy floorboards. He could have used her lighthearted enthusiasm now.

The study door was closed. Kylo raised his hand to knock, but before he could do it, a high-pitched shout came from inside, words he couldn’t quite make out yet.

“I only asked for your obedience.” Palpatine’s words were unmistakable in reply. “And yet you found one more way to fail me. I only asked for one simple thing: that you not offend my honoured guests.”

“That’s not what you asked!” Rey’s voice was clearer now. “You want to sell me off to that man!”

“And you expected different.” Palpatine’s statement was followed by a harsh, humourless laugh. “Such is our duty in life, my granddaughter. I am disappointed that as my ward and heir you are still so naïve.”

“I wasn’t aware you gave me any guidance,” Rey sneered. Despite himself, Kylo had to laugh. She was holding her own, as she always did.

“The fact of the matter is still that you disobeyed my direct order. You had one duty and you flouted it without shame. What happened to the clever little girl my men brought in all those years ago?”

“I won’t marry him.” Rey’s voice was firm. “I’ll do whatever you want, but not that.”

“You are in no position to be making demands. You have disobeyed me. Please enlighten me as to why you should be allowed a second chance?”

“I won’t beg for a second chance to marry that pompous creature.”

“Allow me to repeat myself,” Palpatine said, and Kylo felt a twinge of worry. He knew that when the Chancellor took that tone, someone’s life was about to be destroyed. “Please enlighten me as to why you should be allowed a second chance to _live under my roof_.”

A chill went down Kylo’s spine. If Rey was thrown out, what would she do? He knew she was resourceful, but the world was ruthless, particularly for a woman with no family and a ruined reputation.

He wouldn’t allow it to happen, he decided, turning away from the door. No, he would leave here today and simply send a letter informing Palpatine of his intention. Right now, there were more pressing things he needed to do. He wasn’t going to like it, but Rey depended on him. If he couldn’t win her love, he could at least make things right.

*

The coach ride was bumpy every mile of the way. Kylo sat sandwiched between the door and a very large gentleman on his other side, clutching his suitcase between his knees. Outside the window, the familiar countryside rolled by.

He remembered traveling by this route every year as a young boy, to and from his uncle’s school in the north for Christmas and other holidays. That was before his behaviour and attitude worsened, and his parents’ letter came stating that he was welcome to return home once he’d cleaned up his act.

He was doing this for Rey. Kylo reminded himself of that and swallowed hard, scowling at his faint reflection in the window. He was a broken, scowling hulk of a man. What Rey had seen in him, he didn’t know, but this wasn’t about him anymore.

The countryside began to look even more familiar, until at last the coach rolled into the town where Kylo had spent most of his young life. It felt odd calling it his hometown. He elected to walk the few miles to his family’s ancestral home.

This all felt like a dream. With his letter of resignation safely dispatched, he could consider himself free—no amount of threats or cajoling could persuade him to return to his old life. Kylo felt numb as he trudged up the front steps where he’d run so many times as a child, and rang the bell, thankful for once that his mother disliked excessive displays of wealth.

The door opened. Kylo entered, prepared to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

*

At this point, Rey could have drawn a map of the plaster ornamentation on the bedroom ceiling in her sleep.

Sleep would still have evaded her, however. There was no question of sneaking out at night, and during the day her activities were heavily monitored. She was reminded of her childhood days, when she was tailed all day by either a governess or a household servant, wringing their hands and worried in case the Chancellor’s ward sustained an injury or broke something. They still saw her as that half-wild street rat, she knew, even now in her stiff black dresses and tightly bound, conservative hairstyles.

Her grandfather saw her that way too. He'd left urgently to consult his lawyers, and Rey knew what their topic of discussion would be. Lord Palpatine was eager to see that his estate would remain in safe hands while his granddaughter was left penniless. It was only a matter of time.

What was the point of it all?

She snorted weakly, flipping her pillow over. There _was_ a point, in fact—it was to break the rebellious spirit that had supposedly been passed on from her parents to her. Rey didn’t understand how, if that were the case, someone like Kylo Ren could stray so far from the kind Lady Organa and become, well, _himself_.

With Kylo Ren on her mind, thoughts of their kiss rose traitorously to the surface. Rey felt that unfamiliar stirring again just thinking about it. With the kiss planted firmly in her memory, she understood why women would take lovers and risk their reputation and marriages. She wasn’t ignorant of what couples did together, of course, but what reason was there to think about it, when she could not hope for her own future?

Kylo Ren was long gone, of course, just as he had said he would be. She had heard whisperings that he’d broken his promise to her grandfather, that he’d left just a letter to explain his desertion. What consequences would come to him, Rey couldn’t find it in herself to wonder. There would be a new groundskeeper, someone Rey would no doubt hate—and this time there’d be no chance of a budding friendship or whatever this…thing was she’d had with Kylo.

She still couldn't stop herself from wishing him the best. Perhaps he was truly happy now, free not only of his family, but of her.

The thought inexplicably brought tears to Rey’s eyes. She rolled over, letting them spill across her cheeks. She would never have—would never deserve—someone to want her or love her. Even if she hadn’t pushed him away, what could have come of it? She was destined to always be her grandfather’s puppet, used for whatever ends he saw fit.

It was well past midnight when Rey drifted uncomfortably to sleep. She recalled hearing the clock strike two just as a furious knock sounded at her door.

“Miss Rey.” Her maid’s urgent voice floated through. “Miss Rey, something has happened. You’re needed downstairs.”

Rey grunted, forcing herself to sit up and reaching for a dressing gown. She had barely put it on when the knock sounded again, more frantic this time.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming!” she said irritably. But when she opened her door to see the maids gathered there, their faces white as paper, she began to feel as though something was really wrong after all. Then, she was told the words that she was least expecting to hear.

“It’s Lord Palpatine, miss Rey. He was found dead in his carriage on the way to London. I’m very sorry, ma’am.”

Rey was numb.

Found dead in his carriage…so there would be no disowning. No change to his will. And now, no guardian to tell her what to do or who to marry. She was alone.

For the first time in a long time, Rey felt glad to be alone.

“What…” Her voice squeaked, and she drew herself up, clearing her throat. “What was the cause of death?”

“Most likely a stroke, Lady Palpatine,” said the doctor, who Rey hadn’t noticed until then. She did her best to disguise her surprise, nodding. She felt as though she were floating in a sea of thick fog, muffling all noise and limiting her sight. She was truly alone—and not just alone, but in charge for the first time.

Dimly she heard herself giving orders to the servants, to send for lawyers and inform Palpatine’s allies once daylight had come.

*

And then, on the fourth day when the sun had already reached its peak, he came to her.

“Lord Ben Organa Solo,” said the servant, “to see you, ma’am.”

Rey started, her tired brain grasping in confusion for a moment before she was taken back to that day in the library. _“Call me Ben. That’s the name I was given.”_

He entered the room. Tall and broad just as she remembered, seeming to fill up the space and command it. She stood to greet him, looking up just as she had all those weeks ago when he’d caught her sneaking back from seeing her friends. This time, she did look up to him but it was as an equal. A challenge.

“Rey,” he said then, as they were left alone in the room, and knelt at her feet.

She opened her mouth, but before she could decide whether to demand an explanation or tell him to leave, he was clasping her hands. “Rey, accept my apologies.”

Rey’s jaw slackened in surprise. He was…saying sorry?

“I returned to my mother,” he said, looking up at her. “I asked for her forgiveness, and she gave it.”

Rey’s eyes widened. “Ben,” she murmured, reaching out with one hand to touch his cheek. He leaned into her touch, and warmth blossomed in her stomach.

“I wanted to show y—I wanted to prove that I really am the man I told you I was,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “I don’t ask you to love me again, but I only want you to know that you—you showed me the right direction to take.”

Rey’s eyes filled with tears. Whispering his name once more, she dropped to her knees to be on his level. His hopeful eyes burned into hers before she closed them and leaned in for the kiss she’d been longing for.

“There’s no ‘again’,” she said softly when they parted. “I never stopped loving you.”

She watched his eyes soften and fill with tears. “Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he whispered. In answer, she pulled him in for another kiss, and this time they parted with relieved laughter.

“You returned to your mother,” Rey said, still not quite believing it. But hadn’t Finn said that Lady Organa would forgive her son?

“Dameron laughed, of course.” Ben snorted at the memory. “And all my mother’s household looked at me as if I had two heads, but…”

“I’d still love you,” Rey declared stoutly, not even minding the blush that sprang to her cheeks.

*

“My grandfather may be dead,” Rey said, “but he still has allies who wouldn’t hesitate to take his place. I won’t continue his brand of injustice—I’ve seen enough of it ever since the first day I came here.”

Ben nodded, resting his cheek against Rey’s head and gazing out across the gardens, elegant yet gloomy from their viewpoint at her window. He tried to imagine his brave Rey being brought to this stifling place as a child, but the thought was overcome by the Rey he knew now, strong and determined to stay true to herself despite all circumstances.

“We’ll do it together,” he promised her, and the reality that neither of them would have to be alone any longer flowed through him. Rey turned in his arms and beamed up at him.

“Perhaps,” Ben mused, “you’d like to meet my mother.”

“I’d like nothing more—if she’s anything like you.”

“Oh,” Ben laughed. “Worse.”

Rey laughed with him, throwing her head back. With Ben at her side, the lost child of ten years ago would finally find justice, and history would not repeat itself.


End file.
